


All I want for Christmas is Coffee and Christine

by KayKitten



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M, Phantomsholidaychallenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28249530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayKitten/pseuds/KayKitten
Summary: Christine Daaé is a student working at a café when a strange man sweeps her off her feet and waltzes her into a scene fit for a snowglobe.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	All I want for Christmas is Coffee and Christine

Christine Daaé smiled warmly as she flattened out her apron and pulled out her tiny notebook and thoroughly chewed pencil, “So what can I get for you, sir?” she asked politely.   
The stranger sat opposite from her with his legs crossed; he peered at the blonde waitress over his newspaper, “A pot of tea, please.”  
His voice sent shivers down the waitress’ spine; his rich, velvety tone sensually invaded her ears. Christine simply stared at him forgetting it was incredibly rude to do so. The masked man cleared his throat – as much as he adored that pair of big blue eyes, he did not appreciate being stared at so intensely. She had seemingly lost her manners until she was pulled out of the daydream by the stranger’s modest cough. Christine blushed as she did on so many occasions.   
“I’m so sorry sir, I’ll- “, she stumbled backwards into a table knocking over a vase, “get you your drink…” Christine mumbled as she corrected the vase. She made a beeline for the counter where she would brew his tea. Suddenly, her brunette friend (Meg Giry) tapped her on the shoulder bringing Christine into the real world.   
“Aw! Chrissy has a crush!” she exclaimed immaturely and at a volume Christine found a bit too loud. She placed one of her tiny hands over Meg’s mouth to shut her up but Meg had other ideas, it was needless to say that she licked Christine’s hand.   
“Shut up he’ll hear!” Christine scolded.  
Meg shrugged as she returned to her position drying mugs and putting them back up on the shelves, “You have a boyfriend, you know that right?”  
Christine gave her friend dagger eyes; it was complicated and Meg should know that by now. Her relationship with Raoul was complex and layered, it was never simple or simple enough for her to deem him as her boyfriend. In that tense moment Christine just happened to catch a glimpse of Meg’s green-eyed jealousy. It was true, Meg Giry was intensely jealous of her best friend’s relationship with the Vicomte de Chagny. She witnessed the ups and downs of their ever-changing relationship, though she longed to have the moustachioed man to herself. Christine always gave Meg the benefit of the doubt regarding her undisguisable feelings towards Raoul.  
“Not for long…” Christine sighed; it was too obvious that her relationship with Raoul was entering its final moments. The romance was dead. Every kiss she gave the coveted Vicomte was empty. Meaningless. She intended to finish things with Raoul before she regretted going any further.  
“What!? You’re dumping him?”  
“Unfortunately, yes.”, Christine gazed at the mysterious man and caught him staring at her expectantly… Oh wait! She was serving him. He was merely waiting for his pot of tea. Probably.  
She rushed over to him holding the scolding hot teapot resulting in nasty burns on her little hands. Christine placed the teapot in front of him swiftly because if she held it for a moment more she would most likely drop it.  
“Thank you, Miss. Did that hurt your hands?” he began pouring the black tea into his teacup and yet his eyes never left her face.  
“Oh, it’s nothing!” she brushed him off and scurried back to her spot behind the counter to avoid further confrontation.

She spent the remainder of her shift explaining how she was going to break up with Raoul and drooling over the masked man. Christine was on the last shift of the day – she needed the money. She watched as the café slowly emptied of people until it was just her and the mysterious man. Patiently, she waited for him to leave of his own accord. Though it became apparent half an hour after the café was supposed to close that he would not leave without her prompting him to go. She rose from her seat and took her apron off hanging it up with Meg’s. Meg had since left early, she had dance rehearsals that apparently took priority over her own job.  
“Sir, we’re closing now if you wouldn’t mind leaving…” she trailed off as he stood, betraying his height. He practically towered over her tiny frame. The man smoothed back his jet-black hair and looked down at her, “Here, I have a tip for you.” He presented her with fifty euros that had appeared seemingly from nowhere. His outstretched hand nudged the money towards her and she shook her head vigorously refusing his donation.  
“Please sir, I’ve done nothing to deserve that money- “  
“You burned your hands for my tea, please take it. It is the least I can do to apologize.”, he interjected.  
She was at a moral dilemma – should she take the money or not? It would be rude to refuse but also rude to accept such a generous sum of money from a stranger.   
Hesitantly, her trembling hands collected the neatly folded bank notes and placed them in her pocket, “Thank you ever so much, sir.”  
He tipped his fedora hat (which similar to the money had appeared from nowhere) at her in recognition before gracefully leaving the café and a giddy Christine. She legitimately swooned as she left the café with her hands resting over her heart to keep it inside her chest. Surely, he had felt it drumming vigorously in her chest. Or he had heard it beating for him? Only for him.

That night Christine tossed and turned in her bed, the thought of that stranger was keeping her from her coveted sleep. She pulled the duvet up to her chin, her tiny apartment had little in the way of radiators or heating but the December chill wouldn't keep itself out. It wasn’t much, but it was home. Christine Daaé was alone in every sense of the putrid word. Three years ago, she had been orphaned when her precious Papa passed away, her mother had unfortunately met a similar fate when giving birth to her. Christine had friends but no family to speak of and her love life was rather lacking at the present moment. When her futile efforts at sleep were seemingly fruitless, she rose from her bed and sorted out her money she earned from tips the previous day. She pulled out the tip from the mysterious man and found a scrap of paper encased in the money with a phone number scrawled on it childishly. While his handwriting was sloppy, his presentation wasn’t as the notes had been so carefully folded. This caused Christine’s head to spin and sleep didn’t sound like a bad idea anymore. She collapsed back into bed to dream of what this could all possibly mean. He was interested in her. There was no denying that from the fact he had given her his phone number.

The next day was almost a complete clone of the day prior: the stranger was back in the café and she had to collect his order. She groaned when Meg pushed her into conversing with the man – she hadn’t called him yet so she could only pray that he hadn’t got the wrong idea. Christine put on her most convincing smile and found herself stood before him yet again, “Um… Hello again, sir. What can I get you today?” she murmured.  
He looked up at her from over his newspaper just like yesterday, “You shouldn’t murmur like that, your voice is so swee-“ he caught himself midsentence, “I mean, I won’t be able to hear what you are saying.” Good save Destler, good save. He had managed to correct his previous statement to avoid suspicion. Christine gave him an expectant look, oh right he hadn’t ordered anything yet. “The same as yesterday, please.”, he requested without giving her so much as a glance.  
This sort of interaction continued for weeks between the two. Christine purposefully made sure not to let slip the fact that she had been granted a rather generous tip from her crush or as Meg liked to call him: “Mr. Mysterious”. But one day when the two were having a particularly slow day of business Christine made the terrible mistake of telling Meg.   
“He’s so obviously into you!” she exclaimed a bit too loudly.  
Mr. Mysterious glanced at the two waitresses and so did the elderly woman who was sat in the corner.  
Christine buried her face in her hands to hide her now rosy cheeks, “Meg, please!” she begged.  
Meg got the hint and quieted down after that, “Why don’t you ask for his number?”  
Her blonde-haired friend shook her head, “He gave it to me weeks ago.”, she unlocked her phone to search through her contacts to show Meg. His number was absent. She had completely forgotten to put it into her phone. At this revelation her face grew redder than before causing a giggle to spurt from Meg’s pink lips. She’d lost his number. What should she do now? Christine couldn’t exactly ask him for it now… Meg glanced at the clock, “It’s time for rehearsals. Have fun with Romeo over there!” she giggled.  
Christine shot Meg her signature pout and the old woman followed suite and left too. She was alone with the man again. The music from the radio poured out, filling their uncomfortable silence: “All I want for Christmas is you”. A love song. Just what they needed right now.  
Like ballerinas in white tulle skirts, snowflakes poured from the heavens and twirled to the ground creating a fresh blanket of snow. Erik gazed out of the window watching as the pavement soon glowed white under the street lamps. He stood slowly and made his way to the little waitress. “We haven't met formally, my name is Erik Destler. Please, call me Erik.” he extended a hand towards her.   
Christine looked up and offered him a faint smile, “Hello Erik, I'm Christine. Although you probably already know that from Meg shouting it all the time…” she giggled nervously and shook his hand.   
To her surprise, he pulled her hand drawing her closer. “Do you dance, Christine?” he questioned, his masked head tilted to the side slightly.   
Christine shrugged, “I've never tried it before.” she admitted.  
He hummed in recognition and placed a hand on her waist and kept his other hand in hers. The music changed to a more intimate Christmas song and the two swayed in harmony. Christine knew this was so wrong, she had a boyfriend yet in that moment she couldn't stop herself. She didn't want to. It was one of those moments that seemed fitting of a fairytale. Eventually, the song drew to a close and Christine let out a contented sigh. “Thank you, for that.” she uttered.   
His amber eyes were fixated on her lips and he reached downwards to close the distance. Christine's lips met his halfway and they exchanged a moment of tenderness as he held her in the middle of the little café.   
He was the one to pull away, a smirk covered his lips. She felt all giddy and her legs were threatening to buckle. “Good night Christine, stay safe in the snow.” he bid her farewell and tipped his fedora hat to her. Christine waved in return and drooled over him as he left the café.   
At this rate she would be having a very merry Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 2020 Phantom Holiday One Shot challenge entry. Please enjoy! Merry Christmas!


End file.
